Unmistaken
by bookstoreromantic
Summary: No-curse AU. Princess Emma has a magic charm that lets her slip into the city unnoticed. On the eve of her 21st birthday she meets Lieutenant Killian Jones and a different sort of magic takes hold.


Princess Emma, first of her name, heir to the throne of her kingdom, and only child of their royal majesties Queen Snow White and King James, sighed unhappily as she looked out from her balcony to the city and harbour below. A ship had come in during the day and Emma had begged her parents for permission to don her disguise and go out into the city. She wanted with every fibre of her being to disappear into the cacophony of sounds and smells, to let the city soak into her skin, to sit on the edge of the docks and let her feet dangle in the water.

More than any of that though, she wanted the stories. The vessel that currently held her attention had come from a faraway land and the sailors disembarking from a long voyage would surely have tales to tell. When she was young, her parents would read to her before bed and as she got older she would stay awake late into the night to finish whichever tome she'd taken from the library. Lately though, the stories she craved were those that were _true_. In her stolen adventures down to the city she gathered them wherever she went. A bit of overheard gossip here, an exaggerated tale over ale there, an adventure pried from the mouth of a hunter or merchant, a tragedy, a romance, she collected them all. Emma had quickly learned that the best stories came from sailors. She may have been born to rule in the Enchanted Forest, but her soul was drawn to the sea.

Unfortunately, it would be an old, familiar tale for her tonight: her parents had refused her request to go down to the city and busied her instead with preparations for the ball tomorrow night. Lords and ladies from all over the realm would be in attendance to celebrate her 21st birthday. Emma dreaded it. Such noble company rarely had the sort of stories that she liked, or if they did they never seemed interested in telling them to _her_. This ball would be worse than all the others, for more than once she had overheard her parents whispering about when she would meet her "prince charming." But how could they expect her to find a husband and start a new life when she felt as though she hadn't even lived _this_ one yet? Her own parents' story — the bandit and the shepherd — was held close to her heart, and no prince or lordling had yet tempted her to go to such lengths for love.

The foreign ship floating in the harbour called to her and she sighed again, closing her eyes and resting her elbows on the rail of her balcony. How could her parents not see that her destiny was out there in the world? Staying in the castle, sheltered and protected out of fear of a witch's threats, Emma knew she would never find it.

Her decision made, the blonde princess dashed back into her bedroom and took a small velvet pouch out of the box on her nightstand. Inside was her most valued possession: a glamour charm created by Rumplestiltskin himself. It allowed her to wear the illusion of someone else's face and voice. So powerful was its magic that only her parents were able to see through the spell and recognize her beneath the disguise. Yet despite the anonymity it gave her, despite the fact that she excelled in her archery lessons and had received sword training from Sir Lancelot himself… she was still forbidden from leaving the castle on her own.

But Emma wouldn't be her mother's daughter if she hadn't snuck out before on nights like these, when her heart felt a longing so strong she thought it might burst. Changing into a simple dress and dark cloak, she tucked a knife into her boot and carefully fastened the silver chain around her neck. The charm itself was a deceivingly simple circle and the necklace was short enough that it rested a good inch above the swan pendant she always wore. Carefully climbing over the edge of the balcony, she caught hold of the nearest branch and swung herself up with practiced hands. The trees in the courtyard were old and their limbs strong enough to take her weight. Shimmying down until she reached the trunk, the princess quickly descended the rest of the way and disappeared through a servant's gate into the night.

* * *

Lieutenant Killian Jones had been at sea for six weeks and was still getting his land legs beneath him. Six weeks at sea, seemingly all for a party. Killian had never had any issues with carrying out the king's command, but playing the role of carrier pigeon seemed like a bit of a stretch for the pride of the royal navy.

His brother Liam clapped him on the back. "Tonight we dance with barmaids, and tomorrow with royalty. Quite the life, isn't it little brother?"

Killian rolled his eyes. "I believe you mean I'm your younger brother."

The captain of the _Jewel of the Realm_ laughed at the correction. "Come now younger brother, there will be plenty of time for good form tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate a successful voyage."

"As you say." Killian gave a small nod and watched as his brother took the hand of the nearest woman and pulled her up for a dance.

The night air washed over him. Patrons of The Unlucky Oyster, a noisy but warm dockside tavern, had spilled out into a small square where musicians had taken up their instruments and begun to play. He had never been this far to the west, and though every place they travelled had its own sort of beauty, he had to admit that there was something enchanting about this particular kingdom. Perhaps it was the beautiful night, or the festivities that seemed to be held on every corner for the princess' birthday. Whatever it was, he felt lighter than he had in weeks — lighter than he ever had his first night back on land. Leaning contentedly against the wall with his ale, Killian's gaze drifted around the square, taking in the crew as they enjoyed themselves until his eyes landed on _her_.

She was on the opposite side of the square, illuminated by the glow of some hanging lanterns, soft golden curls framing her face. It was just a glimpse through the crowd of drinkers and dancers, but in that moment their eyes had met and he could have sworn she smiled. His feet were moving towards her before he had the chance to second-guess himself.

"Would you like to dance, milady?"

She was by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen; more lovely up close where he could see the green of her eyes and dimpled cheeks. His heart skipped a beat when she bit her bottom lip even as she took the hand he offered. "I don't think it's usually recommended for young ladies to dance with men who fail to introduce themselves."

He blushed and scratched behind his ear with his other hand. "Indeed, bad form on my part. Lieutenant Killian Jones. Might I have the pleasure of your name?"

"Emma."

"A lovely name."

_Emma_. The syllables sang through his body as he led her out to join the other couples in the square. His left hand came to rest on her waist and he was quite certain that this was a dream. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen… how was it that she was here alone and without a suitor?

"I thank you for the compliment, but I'm afraid I cannot take credit for it."

"No, I suppose not. I would do better to compliment you on your dancing."

She smiled as he spun her out and drew her back in. If she noticed that they were a touch closer than they had been before, she didn't remark on it. "Perhaps so, but I've been told before that I'm a natural — your compliment would hardly be original."

Killian grinned at her banter and maneuvered them to the edge of the dancing, away from where his brother was giving him a strange look. "Your beauty, then."

She cocked her head to the side, as though searching for dishonesty in his words. "Also not something that I'm responsible for."

"Then surely I must compliment you on your wit."

"You've hardly experienced enough of my wit for it to merit complimenting, Lieutenant."

"Perhaps not, but the taste I've had only leaves me desiring more."

"But could you handle it, I wonder?"

It was as though the music and other patrons had disappeared and all of a sudden they were standing on the edge of the square, still holding on to one another. He'd been enjoying the dancing and the flirting, no question, but her coy responses were designed to keep him at arm's length and he wanted more. Killian could think of no cause for his sudden boldness save for the fact that he was possessed by the desire to know her. To know all of her — her deepest fears, her secret dreams, everything he could about this young woman with her open smiles yet protected heart. Leaning even closer to her, he murmured, "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."

He held her gaze as her eyes flicked from his own down to his lips and back again. For a brief, glorious moment he thought she might kiss him and for an equally brief moment he considered kissing her. Then she dropped eyes and took a half step back from him. He thought he'd been too bold, that she was going to take her leave of him, but when she looked up there was a small smile on her face.

"You strike me as being new in town, Lieutenant Jones. Would you like to go for a walk with me?"

* * *

She'd gone mad. There could be no other explanation for why she had invited a complete stranger to go for a stroll through the city. The intoxicating presence of the man beside her made her fear for her sanity far more than her safety. He looked at her as though she were fascinating, as though he actually wanted to know her. No one had looked at her like that before — no prince at a ball when she wore all her royal finery, and no soldier or merchant at a tavern when she was under the glamour and disguised as a peasant. They all only saw appearances but Killian, she felt absolutely certain, saw _more_. And it only served to make her want to know more about _him_ in return.

She led them away from the docks, the flow of conversation interrupted occasionally by her pointing out some local landmark. Arm in arm they walked through the streets, Emma sharing stories from her kingdom's history and Killian regaling her with his tales from the high seas. She was careful not to share too much about herself, telling him only that she'd grown up in the city and that her parents worked in the castle. He didn't press for more, apparently content to trade his stories for some that she'd collected.

They'd reached the Old Market, though all of its shops and stalls were closed and shuttered for the night. Emma jumped up to the base of a column next to the small fountain in the center and circled around the edge on her toes. Killian canted his head as he watched her, a smile on his face.

"So tell me, why all this fuss for the princess' 21st birthday? What's the significance?"

"Twenty-one isn't a significant year in your land?"

He clasped his hands behind his back as she made another circuit of the column. "My kingdom gives more import to decades and quarter-centuries."

"We celebrate those as well, but twenty-one is held to be a very powerful number. Seven is the most fortunate of numbers, and three the most powerful, so twenty-one — being three-times-seven — is a very important birthday."

"I suddenly feel very sad to have allowed mine to pass with such little fanfare."

"Then feel free to borrow some of the festivities for mine."

He chuckled. "Do you often claim royal festivities for yourself?"

Emma froze, not realizing the implications of what she'd said until the words were out of her mouth. _Gods_, what was she thinking flirting with him like this? It was dangerous, how happy and open he made her feel. "I was named for the princess," she started, hoping to explain away her slip. "Our birthdays are very close together. Sometimes it's easy to pretend."

Easy to pretend to be someone else, someone he could care for. _Princess_ was a loaded title with heavy implications. It weighed her down on the best of days, this role she was born to but not made for. Here, under the glamour, she felt like she could be free with him — even as she knew that'd he'd be hurt if he ever discovered the truth.

Desperate to change the topic, Emma jumped down from the column and moved over to the fountain where a bronze swan sat along the water's edge. Its bill shone like gold even in the night and Emma ran her fingers along the edge of it.

"They say that if a visitor rubs the bill of this swan that they're sure to return to the city someday."

Killian came to stand next to her, their arms brushing as they both looked at the bird. Reaching out, he rubbed the swan's bill with the palm of his hand then laid it over hers on the edge of the fountain. Emma smiled at him and laced their fingers together.

"How close are we to the docks?"

* * *

She was amazing — smart, funny, challenging, and obviously well-educated. He thought she must be some sort of minor nobility, perhaps a lady-in-waiting at the court. Her dress and cloak, though simple in design were of good craftsmanship and she had all the manners and bearing of one who had grown up amongst royalty. Perhaps she was the daughter of a knight at the castle? She was obviously reluctant to speak about herself or her family and he couldn't begrudge her carefulness and caution. He was, after all, a stranger both to her and the kingdom. In all, it mattered little to him. Killian was content to carry on as they were and share of himself in hopes of gaining her trust and perhaps the promise of another meeting before the _Jewel of the Realm_ left on its return voyage.

They emerged from the shadows of harbour-front buildings and walked along the water back towards the ships. Neither had let go of the other's hand and his heart swelled with the small intimacy. He'd just met her and already would give her anything within his power, but as it was all he could offer was to show her the vessel that had brought him here.

Killian came to a stop before the familiar brig with its double mast and furled sails. "Here we are."

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"_She_."

Emma smiled. "_She_ is beautiful." Her fingers dropped his and she walked a little ways away from him down the dock, looking up at the ship. "It must be wonderful — to be able to take your home with you while you travel."

He stayed back, watching her. "I've never thought of it that way."

"I'd see the world, if I could. I can't think of a better way to do it."

"It's not always clear skies and smooth sailing, but the sea is either in your blood or it isn't. I haven't known another home for almost twenty years. I'd give you a tour if I could, but it's against regulation."

"There's not an ounce of rebel in you, is there Lieutenant Jones?"

He could feel the blush heat his cheeks and thanked the gods that it was dark. "I'm not sure about that."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't ask you to break your good form," she laughed, coming back towards him. "But tell me, if you've spent nearly twenty years at sea already… there must be a story there."

"Not a happy one." At her frown and curious tilt of the head he sighed and continued.

_ Triton's beard, was there nothing he'd hesitate to share with her?_

"My father was a captain in the royal navy and often away on the king's business. Liam was in his first year at the naval academy when our father was injured in battle and sent home for his recovery. One morning he packed a bag, took me onboard a ship, and said that we'd travel the world together. Then he left me at the next port. I was little more than eight at the time." Emma took his hand again and gave it a reassuring squeeze. His eyes travelled up along the lines of the _Jewel_, remembering that first sea voyage. "Our mother had passed years earlier, so when my brother found me he arranged for me to serve as a cabin boy until I was old enough for the academy. It was only later I learned that our father had been fleeing charges of abandoning his ship before the crew during a pirate attack. Liam is both my captain and all the family I have — even if he is a stubborn arse most of the time."

She smiled gently at him. "You don't want to disappoint him."

"I'd go to the end of the world for him. He did for me."

* * *

The air seemed to have grown thick around them and Emma found herself at a loss for words. This stranger she'd met at a tavern had spent the night sharing stories both personal and painful without question and without asking for any in return. She suddenly felt like a horrible fraud — Emma had come to know him over the course of the night and yet he didn't even know her true face.

His thumb was brushing back and forth along the back of her hand and she was struck by the desire to rip the charm from her neck. She opened her mouth to speak, to try and give him some piece of herself in return but he beat her to it.

"Tell me, how is it that a beautiful, smart, charming lady such as yourself came to a tavern alone, without friends or suitors?"

Emma glanced away and hid a smile at his unknowing choice of words. "She snuck out. My parents can be very… protective."

"And your friends weren't brave enough to meet you here?"

"I don't actually have very many, so no. As for whether or not I have a suitor, that is… yet to be decided."

"I find it hard to believe that you would have none."

She rolled her eyes. "_Charming_ I may be, but I am also impulsive and stubborn. I've yet to find anyone who has proven up to the task of such a wooing."

Emma expected him to say something clever in response but instead he simply looked at her openly before he murmured, "You're afraid of revealing yourself to someone, that they might see your truest self and decide you not worth their while." Her eyes snapped up to his but he kept going. "You fear that love will make you vulnerable. That it will be your weakness, and not your strength." Killian paused, and a smile lit up his face as though his earlier words had not just struck deep to everything she knew and felt in her heart. "That's all right. I love a challenge."

Emma stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. He'd seen straight into her but there was no judgement in his tone. Even now he held her eyes with nothing but a small smile on his lips. She dropped his hand, but didn't move away as before. Instead she placed her palms on his shoulders and pushed herself up on the balls of her feet so she could press her lips to his.

They were each hesitant at first, but she felt him sigh into her mouth and his hand came up to gently cup her head. She could feel the scratch of his beard as their heads tilted, both looking to deepen the kiss, looking for _more_. He sucked softly on her upper lip and Emma sucked a breath in through her nose, stiffening slightly and forcing herself to pull away.

They stayed close to each other, noses brushing, and Emma attempted to get the rapid beat of her heart under control.

"Your name– your full name. Please."

He sounded desperate and wrecked. Emma wanted to, but knew she couldn't fill his request. Yet she found herself speaking anyway as she finally let go of his shoulders. "Swan. Emma Swan."

"Swan." He smiled, and it was as though he was caressing the name with his lips. "Will I see you again?"

She couldn't help but smile back. "Perhaps." Gods, this was reckless and thoughtless and absolutely wonderful in every way. She brushed her lips against his once more in a chaste kiss and stepped back. "I have to go… before my parents discover me missing."

"Goodnight, Miss Swan."

"Goodnight, Killian."

He beamed at her and Emma attempted to hide her grin as she turned and hurried away. She didn't need to look back to know that he was watching her leave and her chest felt warm with the knowledge. She hadn't meant to be gone so long — it was nearing dawn — but she wished the night could have stretched on even longer. Her mind raced with ways she could see him again, how to let him know the truth of who she was. By the time she had snuck back into the castle and slipped into bed the sun was rising and Emma's mind was still too full to sleep.

* * *

Killian stood on the deck of the _Jewel of the Realm_, watching the sun set over the water as he waited for his captain. He was dressed in his blue formal uniform, complete with the longer coat, recently shined boots, and ridiculously tight collar. By all accounts, the princess' ball should be the highlight of this voyage yet his mind was full with thoughts of a completely different Emma. He'd not been able to put her from his mind for a single moment all day and had little desire to. He wondered if perhaps he'd see her tonight — he had his suspicions about her heritage but they'd talked very little of the upcoming royal ball.

"Little brother?"

He jumped and turned to see Liam standing behind him, an amused smirk on his face. "Aye?"

The captain of the _Jewel_ chuckled. "Whoever she was, it would seem that she has bewitched you. I asked if you were ready to depart."

Killian scratched behind his ear. _Bewitched indeed_, he thought. "Aye, I was merely waiting for you."

"Then let's go."

The trip from the docks to the castle took about an hour on foot and Killian was reminded at nearly every turn of some place Emma had shown him last night. She clearly loved her city and he found himself wondering if she would love his as well. Would she discover new places he'd never heard of? Uncover stories and forgotten histories of the land he grew up in? His fingers went to his lips absentmindedly as he thought back on their kiss. Would she come and find him before the _Jewel_ departed? If not, perhaps she was known at The Unlucky Oyster and the staff there might be able to get a message to her.

"Are you going to tell me what it is you saw in her, or are you going to stay lost in your daydreams?"

Killian smiled and shook his head. "What isn't there to see in her? She is everything."

"Bloody hell, it's worse than I thought."

"Much worse," he agreed. He was no stranger to the occasional dalliance when they made port, but no woman had left him so captivated before.

They had reached the arched bridge which led to the castle and Liam reached into his breast pocket to present their invitation to the guard waiting at the entrance. Killian studied each royal guard they passed on their way to the castle gates, wondering if one of them was her father.

They were swept inside along with a crowd of arriving nobles and dignitaries and Killian's eyes roved over the tapestries that lined the main corridor, remembering some of the stories that Emma had told him the night before. The herald at the grand double doors to the ballroom took their invitation again and they were promptly announced to all present. The queen greeted them both and he and Liam bowed low to the petite, graceful woman who he was surprised to see wasn't wearing a crown. As they moved further into the room, Killian's gaze was drawn to the impressive stained glass windows on the far wall, still illuminated by the glow of the setting sun.

The music and dancing had already started, graceful couples moving in perfect synchronicity throughout the room. A peal of laughter caught his attention and he turned his head in time to see a swirl of pale blue tulle and golden hair being led to the dance floor by what looked to be a dwarf. Killian stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape as he realized that he was watching the princess and a dwarf dance happily, weaving amongst the lords and ladies like carefree children.

_Emma_.

He tried to convince himself that his eyes were deceiving him even as he was certain that they weren't. Suddenly her reluctance to speak about herself the other night made sense. Her manner and bearing, her beauty... _gods above_ she was the princess. He had danced and courted and kissed the _crown princess_. Did she know he would be here tonight? Would she be pleased to see him? Killian was no prince, had no land or title or gifts to offer her. He had only himself and all the faith in his heart that told him the night before had been as real for her as it had been for him.

Liam stopped beside him and followed his gaze. "Careful now, your maid from last night might get jealous were she to find you enchanted by the princess."

Killian tugged at his too-tight collar. "I doubt that, brother. I doubt that very much."

* * *

Emma had so far been successful in her efforts to avoid any matchmaking and was having a wonderful time as a result. She'd taken a break from dancing and was enjoying a glass of sparkling wine with Ella and Thomas' daughter, Princess Alexandra, when she first caught sight of him through the crowd. Emma sputtered, shocked, and nearly coughed up her wine before recovering and glancing away quickly.

She couldn't believe she'd been so swept away last night that she hadn't thought to ask whether he would be attending the ball. She knew his brother was likely here somewhere — Killian had mentioned that the ball was merely the occasion for diplomatic entreaties they were to carry out and it made sense for the captain to attend as an envoy of their king. That his lieutenant was also here...

Emma couldn't help but look back over at him. He was dressed in what she assumed was his most formal uniform which featured a long navy blue coat with golden stripes indicating his rank on the sleeve. He'd combed and tied back his hair, though she was pleased to see that he hadn't gone clean shaven. In all, he looked every bit the proper lieutenant who emphasized honour and good form above all else and her mind drifted to how decidedly _improper_ he had looked after their kiss at the docks. A small smile crept across her face and she could have sworn she saw him smile back from his spot by the wall. Almost immediately her stomach dropped.

He was watching her.

Alexandra leaned over to see what she was looking at and hummed appreciatively. "I thought we were trying to avoid the inevitable parade of handsome men this evening?"

"We are," she muttered, fidgeting with her glass.

It wasn't right. She couldn't explain her deception here and doubted he would even believe her if she tried. Emma wanted nothing more than to go over and speak to him anyway but knew she couldn't risk raising his suspicion. The glamour may change her face and voice, but if she danced with him and let slip anything about last night, she wasn't certain how she might explain it away. The scandal that would erupt if the royal court discovered her magic charm could cost her any measure of freedom she still had. No, she had to avoid him at all costs.

"Come on," she said, setting her glass down and grabbing Alexandra's hand. "Surely we can find some handsome men to dance with who won't also want to marry us."

"Speak for yourself!"

Rolling her eyes, Emma led the way over to where some of her parents' knights stood talking and was soon swept off in a waltz by the recently married Sir Tristan. Out of curiosity she cast a glance around the ballroom to see if she could spot Killian's brother. Since they'd left The Unlucky Oyster to go off on their own, she'd never been introduced to the elder Jones but knew how much Killian looked up to him. Eventually, she spotted an older man in similar navy attire dancing with her Aunt Red. She wondered if Liam had been told anything about her — but surely it would be bad form to gain such information under false pretenses?

Gods, she'd thought so much about him she was beginning to sound like him!

Automatically her eyes flicked back over to Killian. He hadn't moved since she'd first spotted him and was still watching her intently. Emma tried to push the niggling fear from her mind; there was no way for him to recognize her. The only ones who could see her through the glamour charm were her parents, and the silver circle had been against her skin the entire night. _She_ couldn't even see herself when she looked in the mirror under the spell! It was impossible. Simply impossible, and she immediately resolved to think no more on it for the rest of the party.

Yet she couldn't help it — Emma searched for him through the crowd more often than not, and every time found that his eyes were already on her.

* * *

Killian was frustrated. His initial awe and bewilderment had faded as the night wore on and turned instead to a sinking feeling in his gut and a more bitter brand of confusion. She had seen him, had met his eyes when she looked his way, and yet had steadfastly stayed far from him. When he'd first seen her and realized who she was, he'd been certain that their earlier connection would carry him through the ball, but now... she was clearly reticent to renew their acquaintance and it left him unsure of how to proceed. He'd never accidentally courted a princess before. She was ridiculously beyond his reach but the hours they had spent together wandering the streets compelled him to at least try. It may have been nothing more than a fleeting dalliance to her, but if so he needed to _know_.

And if that were the case, if it were truly so one-sided, why hadn't she at least come over to him and said as much? He may have nothing, but he had his honour. Killian refused to be little more than a game to her.

He'd steadfastly ignored Liam's efforts to draw him into the party, choosing instead to stay on the edge of the dance floor, waiting for the right moment. Finally, after what felt like hours, he caught sight of her alone — or at least, as alone as the crown princess could be at a royal ball thrown for her birthday. She had her back to him, so he took a deep breath, stood as straight and as tall as he could and made his approach.

"A dance, Your Highness?"

If he hadn't been watching so carefully, he would have missed the slight stiffening of her shoulders before she turned and slipped into a polite curtsey, placing her hand in his. "It would be my pleasure," her eyes flicked down to the gold stripes on his coat sleeve, "Lieutenant."

He frowned, eyebrows pinched together as he led them onto the dance floor. His hand settled carefully at her waist as the orchestra struck up the next song and Emma took her position effortlessly. Her face was schooled into a polite smile but she wasn't looking at him. _Had it all just been a lie?_ For long minutes they danced in silence, Killian searching her face desperately for some sign that the previous night hadn't been horribly imagined on his part, while she avoided eye contact seemingly at all cost — gaze fixed firmly over his right shoulder.

"Are you enjoying the ball so far, Lieutenant?"

Something in him snapped at her airy question and he tried but failed to mask the sudden fury he felt. "Were you planning on ignoring me all night, _princess_?"

Her eyes flicked to his, then quickly away before the mask of serenity was back on her face. "I'm afraid I'm a very popular dance partner tonight. With so many guests, surely you understand that it's impossible for me to —"

Killian pulled her a little tighter and her words ended in a quick gasp. "Do not lie to me," he hissed. He was angry, there was no use anymore in hiding it. "Do you take me for a fool? That I can't tell the difference between Emma Swan with her simple dress and long hair and Princess Emma with her ball gown and tiara? Are you truly going to dance with me and pretend that we didn't do the same just last night? Gods, Emma, you didn't even change your name."

She wrenched away until she was just out of arm's reach and stared at him, a look of growing horror on her face.

"It's not possible."

Killian absently wondered how long it would take for the other couples to notice that the crown princess was standing in the middle of the dance floor, until everyone noticed that something was amiss.

He sighed, the fight draining out of him. "It wasn't a very good disguise."

She looked as though he'd struck her and had turned to flee the room before he could register the shock on her face, the obvious surprise that he'd known it was her.

Killian watched her flee, anger and confusion still roiling in his chest. "Happy birthday, Your Highness."

* * *

Emma ran.

Nothing mattered anymore. She didn't care if she was causing a scene, not when she couldn't _breathe_ for the terror gripping her. Pushing her way through to the doors of the ballroom, she broke out into the hallway, ignoring everyone who called after her as she made her escape to the eastern tower and the safety of her own chambers.

She shouldn't have spoken to him, should have just tried to get through the dance without incident and then take her leave. But she couldn't be so close to him and not remember how perfect everything had been, how easily they'd conversed, how it had felt like they'd known each other for years instead of hours. It had felt like he had _seen_ her only he_ had_ and under any other circumstances it'd be all she ever wanted but it wasn't. It was wrong, and it should have been impossible.

The spell on the charm couldn't be breaking. It _couldn't_. It was crafted by the _Dark One_. Her parents had _paid_ for it. Paid dearly for the magic to keep her protected from threats that lurked in the shadows.

A wave of nausea hit her and she covered her mouth, tugging desperately at the laces to her dress with her other hand but she couldn't reach them properly behind her back and _oh god what if it hadn't all been by chance_? What if he had something? — Some counter-spell or something else that allowed him to see through the glamour. He might have been contracted to kill her, or charm his way into her bed in an effort to force her into marriage or ruin her reputation.

Giving up her futile efforts at undressing, Emma moved over to the window and pushed it open, hoping the fresh air would help her breathe, help to quell the shaking that had overtaken her. She felt stupid and foolish, falling for all of his lovely words and gentle understanding. She was the crown princess and utterly inseparable from that title. No one could want her without also wanting the crown that came with her. _No one_ could see her. Ever.

And yet he had.

A knock at the door had Emma wiping at her eyes, relieved to find that though she'd been shaking with sobs since reaching her bedroom, her eyes had miraculously stayed dry. Counting silently to five to regain her composure, she took as deep a breath as she could manage and moved away from the window. There was no point in asking who it was — only a small handful of people ever followed after her.

"Come in," she called, pleased when her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

Her father slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him and crossing the floor to immediately wrap her in a hug. This time she did cry, burying her face in his shoulder as one of his hands undid the pins in her hair, letting it fall before cradling the back of her head as he always had.

"Emma, sweetheart, what happened?"

She pulled away, unsure of how much to tell him. He might be upset that she had snuck out, but might also know something if the charm was truly breaking. Moving over to her bedside table she picked up the delicate necklace and toyed with it nervously between her fingers. "The glamour charm from Rumplestiltskin... does it... does it not work after awhile?"

"What do you mean?"

There was nothing for it — she had to come clean. "Last night, when you and mother said I couldn't go down to the city because of the guests and the increased need for security I… I snuck out. There was a man I danced with tonight, Lieutenant Jones, I met him while I was wearing the glamour and we…" She blushed. "We had a lovely evening. Magical, even. But tonight," Emma took a deep breath, the words lodged in her throat. "He recognized me."

She turned back to face him, certain that her fear was written all over her face and her father sighed heavily. "Do you know why your mother and I can see through the glamour?" he asked, gently taking the charm from her.

She frowned, unsure where this was headed. "Because you're my parents."

"Yes, but it has nothing to do with shared blood. We see through the glamour because _you_ are our True Love."

Emma's eyes went wide at his meaning. "Y-you think Lieutenant Killian Jones is my true love?" she sputtered. "I just met him last night!"

His lip twitched, like he was trying to hide a smile. "Trust me, I am in no rush to say that he is. But is it possible that you have feelings for him?"

Emma bit the inside of her lip as her eyes fell to the floor. "I kissed him."

"The charm isn't breaking, Emma. You're falling in love."

"How can you be sure?" She hated the tremble in her voice. Emma had imagined more than once what falling in love might be like, had dreamt of charming princes, gallant knights, and shared adventures since she was a little girl hearing the story of Snow White and her Prince Charming for the very first time. She'd never thought it would be midnight walks and stolen kisses and horrible misunderstandings on both of their parts. Would he be angry with her for how she had reacted downstairs? Would he forgive her for deceiving him?

"We'll do a test. Tomorrow, you and I will go and pay this lieutenant a visit. If you wear the glamour and go unnoticed as we go through the city, we can rule out the charm no longer working. The rest… will be up to you."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You want to come with me to tell Killian Jones that he may be my true love?"

"It's a theory. One you don't have to share with him if you don't want to. And maybe I just want a closer look at the man," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Emma smiled and pushed away the last of her tears. "Tomorrow then."

He kissed her forehead and pressed the charm back into her palm. "We'll leave after breakfast."

* * *

He was absolutely certain that he'd never felt worse in his life. Killian had awoken with a dry throat and a pounding head and no idea how he'd managed to get back to the ship without also falling overboard. He cursed whichever god had gifted mankind with rum.

He had left the ball immediately after his disastrous dance with the princess, not even bothering to let Liam know that he was going. He was certain his brother had seen. Most everyone had. His shame and anger had carried him down into the city and straight to the nearest tavern where he'd proceeded to drink more than he ever had in his life.

He was so _stupid_. A disgrace to his brother, his crew, and his country. He'd been utterly selfish, and now his poor behaviour threatened the diplomatic portion of their mission. He deserved every bit of the thrashing he was sure to receive from Liam, deserved the misery he was enduring right now.

It just didn't make _sense_. Killian had gone over every moment they'd spent together as he'd fallen further and further into a drunken stupor and still couldn't understand how she could go from kissing him one night to being a stranger the next. He'd been a bloody fool confronting her about it. He never should have let his temper get the better of him like that. He should have charmed her and tried to arrange to meet privately if he'd truly wanted answers. He did want answers, but at the time when he'd asked her to dance he just wanted her to bloody _acknowledge_ him. And then it had all blown up in his face.

Unsurprising, really. Most things did in the end.

The door to his cabin was thrown open, and Killian pressed fingers to his temple and winced when it hit the wall.

"You look like you've been spat out of hell."

He pushed himself up so he was sitting on the bed and met his captain's eyes. "Sounds right."

"Bloody hell Killian, how much did you drink after your stunt last night?"

"The ocean, I think."

Liam leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. "I imagine you feel pretty terrible."

"Aye."

"Good." Stalking over to the small window, he threw the curtains open, making Killian cringe again. "I don't know what you said to her, and quite frankly at this moment I don't want to know. You've created an awful mess for me to try and clean up."

He rose as smoothly as he could manage and forced himself not to fidget. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry might not cut it, Killian. You do realize I'm to propose a marriage alliance between her and any of our king's unmarried sons? How well do you suppose that will go over now that you've made a complete ass of yourself and the kingdom we represent?"

An offer of marriage. He almost wanted to laugh. Let Princess Emma have her choice of their princes. Perhaps they'd have better luck than he had. Hell, he might even get to sail her over for the selection process — wouldn't that be lovely?

"Killian?"

He blinked, pushing the bitter thoughts away. "Aye. I will do whatever you need of me, brother."

Liam sighed and clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Get yourself right again. We'll deal with this together."

He turned to leave and Killian couldn't stop himself, the words coming out of their own volition. "It was her. At the tavern, it was her."

Liam stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, his expression a mixture of concern and amusement. "Perhaps you should take the morning off. I think you're still drunk."

* * *

It was working. They'd left the castle with Sir Lancelot shortly after breakfast. Unlike two nights ago, Emma had dressed in more obviously noble attire to venture into the city alongside the king, the silver circle cool against her skin. Lancelot, being one of the few who knew about the charm, had confirmed that the glamour worked on him as it always had and did not question their sudden desire to test its efficacy with a ride down to the docks.

It was slow going. The king drew crowds as they made their way through the city with many coming out to greet him as they passed. Not one greeted Princess Emma as she rode beside him.

It made her elated and terrified at the same time.

They reached the _Jewel of the Realm_ about an hour before noon and were immediately greeted by Captain Liam Jones. Her father raised a brow at her before they left their horses with Lancelot and boarded the ship.

"Your Majesty, milady, it is an honour to welcome you aboard the _Jewel of the Realm_."

Emma pretended to be very interested in the ship's rigging. If his brother didn't recognize her, then Killian's immunity to the charm's magic had nothing to do with something in his bloodline. It truly was just him.

"She's a beautiful ship," her father started, "But I'm afraid our business here is of a more sensitive nature than your average sightseeing. Is there some place where we can speak in private?"

"Of course. We can discuss in my quarters, this way."

"Thank you, Captain. And your brother, the lieutenant, is he onboard as well?"

Liam winced. "Aye, Your Majesty."

"Please ask him to join us."

They descended into the cabin as Captain Jones ordered one of his men to go track down his brother. Emma stood silent, forcing herself into regal composure in an effort to hide her nerves while her father and Liam made small talk. Finally, the hatch opened and Killian descended the stairs. He stopped near the bottom and stared a moment before regaining himself, taking the rest of the steps quickly and immediately bowing. Emma bit her lip.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness."

Liam coughed and looked about to speak but the king raised a hand for silence. Emma met her father's eyes and she knew he had noticed as well. Once again, the lieutenant had recognized her through the glamour.

"Before we go any further, know that I wish for us to speak freely with one another. However, our business here is delicate and a matter of personal and state security. I need your word that what we discuss will not leave this room."

Liam exchanged a glance with his brother and Emma recognized a communicative look when she saw one. She fiddled with the circular charm nervously, anxious for the explanation to be done quickly so that she could focus on trying to make amends.

"You have it."

Her father nodded and turned his attention from the captain to his brother. "You greeted my daughter when you came in, am I correct, Lieutenant?"

Killian shut his eyes as though in pain and his voice was rough when he spoke. "Aye, Your Majesty. Forgive my bluntness, but she is standing right next to you."

Liam Jones sputtered and looked like he wanted to throttle his brother. "You must forgive him, Your Majesty. My brother is not himself this morning."

"He's not wrong." Emma took a deep breath as all eyes turned to her. At her father's slight nod, she reached behind her neck to remove the glamour. "This should clear things up." Unclasping the charm, she handed it off to her father but her eyes stayed on Killian and his complete lack of reaction.

His brother, on the other hand, looked like someone had struck him on the head. She knew what he was seeing; her hair, eyes, and facial features had all transformed back as soon as she had let go of the charm. "Bloody hell," Liam muttered, before apparently remembering himself and bowing deeply. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I did not realize…"

Emma waved the apology aside. "That's more or less the point."

Her father cleared his throat and brought the room's attention back to Killian. "The necklace is a glamour charm to hide her identity. But you recognized her through it, didn't you, Lieutenant?"

He shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "I did. Though I'd be at a loss to explain how."

Her father gave her a pointed look and Emma blushed, words tumbling out in a rush to try and turn the conversation. "I should apologize, Lieutenant, for the way I reacted at the ball last night. I didn't realize you were immune to the glamour when we met and when you confronted me about it I'm afraid I may have panicked."

"I'm the one who should apologize, Your Highness. My behaviour last night was bad form, no matter the circumstances."

He met her eyes and relief flooded her. "Perhaps we could call it a misunderstanding and leave it at that?"

"Aye." He smiled at her, the stiff navy officer slipping away, and Emma couldn't help the smile that spread across her face in response.

The king coughed beside her. "I trust I don't need to explain the possible danger that could result should this knowledge fall into the wrong hands. Only a few within our most trusted circle know of the glamour charm. In an ideal world it would be kept that way, but we needed to know if the magic was failing, or if its inefficacy in regards to Lieutenant Jones was of a more... personal nature." Her father moved to stand behind her as he spoke, slipping the charm around her neck once more.

The captain of the _Jewel_ sucked in a breath as the veil of magic cloaked her appearance. "You have my word, Your Majesty, none will hear it from us."

"Lieutenant, if I might ask a favour — the captain and I have some other matters to discuss. Perhaps you would be so kind as to give my daughter a tour of the ship while we attend to them?"

"It would be my honour, Your Majesty," Killian replied with a bow. He extended an arm for her to exit the cabin first and Emma obliged him, nodding at his brother and quickly kissing her father's cheek before climbing up the ladder.

* * *

Magic. It had been magic all along that had caused the disaster at the ball. She thought he couldn't see her, and he hadn't known there was anything _not_ to see. In all of the possible explanations that he had concocted, magic had never once entered his mind. He'd thought perhaps she might have a memory problem, or that the Emma he had met at the tavern had actually been the princess' body double, or perhaps even her long lost twin. But a magic disguise? And that he would be immune to its power?...

Killian tried to focus on explaining the ship, tried to calm the beating of his heart which was stronger, now, than the pounding in his head but there was so much he wanted to talk to her about. He had so many questions he wanted to ask and wondered if he would ever have the opportunity. He still had no idea where he stood with her, if he had cause for any hope that this was more than just a dalliance or flirtation. Mostly he wanted to ask why she had kissed him, and if she planned on doing it again.

He took her up to the quarterdeck and tried to show her the helm but Emma moved to the rail at the stern and leaned out over the water. He stayed back, watching her, wanting to tuck the lock of hair that flown free from its braid back behind her ear.

"My father believes that you're able to see through the glamour because we're in love."

She didn't turn to look at him when she spoke and Killian was glad that she couldn't see the way his eyes bulged from their sockets at her words. He coughed to clear his throat and to buy time to formulate a proper response, but could come up with nothing.

"And what do you believe, Your Highness?" he asked, moving to stand next to her at the rail.

"I don't know if I believe in love at first sight," she said quietly, and he met her sideways glance for a moment before she turned back to the water and continued. "Or first kiss. But, I would like to know you better — before you have to leave."

When she turned and gave him a small smile, Killian felt like his heart could not possibly beat faster. He smiled back. "I would like that as well."

The smile that cracked across her face was like the sun breaking out of the clouds. Emma beamed at him and he grinned back, feeling every bit the fool in love. He reached across the rail of the ship to discretely cover her hand with his and she interlaced their fingers immediately just as she had a few nights before. The idea of courting a foreign princess should have been the definition of insanity to him, yet as he stood beside her, both of them looking out across the ocean, the future suddenly seemed startlingly clear.

* * *

King James and Captain Liam Jones emerged together from the latter's private quarters and regarded the young couple as they stood together. "It would seem that I will be stealing your brother from you, Captain."

Liam could not hide his knowing smirk. "He's turned down a promotion twice this year in order to continue sailing aboard the _Jewel_. It's about time someone did."

* * *

_A/N: I really, really liked the idea of true love being able to see through glamour magic. There *is* a multi-chapter sequel outlined that takes place about a year and a half later but I have no idea when I'll be able to get to it — I've got other stuff to write this summer, and will probably be distracted by what happens in s4 once fall rolls around. Knowing me, it will probably sit around partially written for half a year (much like this one did) and get posted in one shot. But, you know, stay tuned!_


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